❝   Hey,   will go on a pajamas date with me   ?   ❞     (◕ᴗ◕✿)

‘Flowers’ by Wendy Cope

𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑,   its tip halved by twin peaks whose pigments remind her of clouded days spent amidst snow and frost.   The she - fox stubbornly lingers in the odd flower’s vicinity,   slender legs   ❪   inelegantly   ❫   crossed in a barely comfortable posture,   ‘pon whose expanse scattered papers and a little notebook have been precariously settled   ;   elongated is the lapse of time that she has tenaciously spent here,   in this exact position,   for she dares not to move for fear that the flower might feel threatened by a sudden maneuver and thus delay its much anticipated blossoming.

A dainty hand suddenly reaches out,   lithe index finger hovers carefully above the thorn before finally poking it.   Once,   twice,   thrice…   Until,   much to her surprise,   the twin peaks seem to suddenly lengthen their extension for the unique cruel purpose of stinging and thus lacerating her now reddened flesh   ❪   either as a generous warning or as a defensive mechanism to fend off potential predators and threats   ❫   .   A childishly frustrated whine slithers past grimacing tiers as Solise turns her wounded finger from side to side in order to observe the little cut and the droplets of ichor spilling forth   ;   this has been undoubtedly unexpected,   something that she ought to immediately take note of and ruminate over at a later date.   And it is then,   whilst her free hand scribbles barely comprehensible notes across the heavy notebook’s cramped page,   that she perceives a foreign presence lingering closer,   closer,   closer until his frame casts a refreshing shadow ‘pon her.   A vulpine ear obnoxiously twitches,   but she does not lift her gaze from the aggressive flower just yet.   ❝   You did know that this was going to happen,   did you not   ?   You should be fired.   ❞

𝘁𝗵𝗲    𝗳𝗹𝗼𝗿𝗮-𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲    𝗮𝗶𝗿    𝘄𝗮𝘀    𝗽𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗻𝘁    𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵    𝘁𝗵𝗲    fragrance    of    ornamental    beauty    ⸻        it    was    no    natural    basin    filled    with    flowers    that    could    leave    many    jealous    of    but,    instead,    it    was    the    luxurious    addition    to    a    formal    garden    conceived    by    beasts    with    copious    leisure    time.    it    was    solely    thanks    to    her    arrival    that    its    development    became    something    to    admire,    to    visit,    to    nurture:    the    flora    was    no    longer    made    of    thorns    and    dust,    coated    with    a    mantle    of    aureate    grace.    it    was    an    ocean    of    grace    with    a    variety    of    pristine    shades,    a    consecrated    relic    that    many    adored    to    contemplate    whilst    submerging    in    eternal    thoughts.    in    many    ways,    he    was    grateful    for    being    her    personal    guard...    for    with    that    duty,    came    the    opportunity    to    educate    himself    and    learn    from    someone    whose    origins    were    far    from    his.